


A Restless Ocean

by stardustsroses



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, jurdan fluff, soft jurdan, the wicked king
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 06:37:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18585793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustsroses/pseuds/stardustsroses
Summary: A sort of continuation of Chapter 29 of The Wicked King. Just some fluffy Jurdan, because I didn’t wish to write anything else.





	A Restless Ocean

There is a moment, one single second, in which a thought crosses my mind, and it is as clear as the night-struck eyes that stare at me with aching tenderness:  
Madness. Madness, all of it.  
And in that second, I take in the way he holds me, the way he looks at me, and the way he mouths my name, like an ancient prayer he cannot keep off his mouth.  
It is enchanting, I think, being in his arms.  
Cardan, the King of Elfhame, has made me Queen. Queen of Faerie. The world is surely upside down.  
But it is as true as me being here right now, with my hand paused at his heart, feeling the steady beat beneath. I am Queen. I am his wife. I am-  
“You are a restless ocean drowning me, Jude,” he whispers, so close to my ear, his head bent down and his dark hair falling in waves over his face, over mine. “And I have no wish to live.”  
What is this, my mind repeats over and over, but I do not listen. I am caught up in his gaze, my heart beating in my throat as his hands trace my sides.  
It is all so tentatively sweet. Just like the last time we were together.  
Who is he, my mind asks.  
This is him – the boy prince who hurt you, and the king you love.  
There is so amazed horror now; not like last time. We know what we want, and we know what this is, now. It comes as no surprise that we want this, and us, and the now that we are in.  
I want to tell you so many lies, he’d told me.  
I want to tell him so many truths.  
But they stay at the bottom of my heart, caged, saved for the right moment.  
I am still so afraid to love him.  
Cardan buries his face between my neck and shoulder, and I am delusional enough to let my eyes fall shut at the feel of his nose pressing into my skin, his lips a breath away.  
With a tug at my heart, I realize he’s committing my scent to memory – if he does not have it marked, already.  
A kiss below my jaw, and a path that follows all the away to the back of my ear. All the while my hands are on his chest, feeling his muscles move as he does, as he hovers over me, as he breathes me in and kisses me and robs me of the air in my lungs like an unforgiving, ruthless thief.  
He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.  
A rush goes through me as those words ring in my head, as his hand comes up to touch my cheek, to turn my face towards him.  
He wants me to look up at him but I cannot.  
I have long since drowned, and I was foolish enough to believe I could withstand this current and stay afloat. I cannot. He’s pulled me under, and now I no longer have the strength to pull myself to the surface.  
And, just like him, I am not entirely sure I want to.  
You love him, you love him, you love him.  
I am gone, as Cardan touches his lips to mine.  
Gone with the current.  
My arms betray me and the rest of my body does too, as I snake around him – arms and legs pulling him to me, planning to forever keep him in my grasp.  
And, whatever words we exchanged minutes before, I know there is so much more to them. In the way that he looked at me as he spoke, in the way that he kissed my hand as he finished. I know there’s more. There has to be.  
He kisses me like there is, indeed, more. More than a deal of convenience.  
He wants this, I think wildly. He wants me.  
The realization of it all strikes me in the face each time.  
Fervently, with reckless urgency, I kiss him too, though our kiss never stops being sweet or tender or – or loving.  
It is each one of those things.  
Cardan pulls away, and stares at me. There are questions in his eyes, and I want to say yes to each and every single one of them.  
Vulnerability, is what this is – from both me and him.  
We are two currents meeting, each from one side, turning the tide.  
We have turned the tide, indeed.  
I dare to run a tentative hand down his face, just to see what he’ll do. His reaction is to close his eyes, and lean against my touch. He does not hide it, either – the wanting, the-  
“Jude,” he says, and, again, my heart is shocked at the love in his voice.  
Was it a lifetime ago when I held a knife to his throat?  
It certainly feels like it.  
“Cardan,” I say back, tasting his name on my tongue. “I…”  
I have no words for what he does next.  
Whatever is on my mind slips away as he places a kiss on the corner of my mouth, another on my chin, down my neck. I bare my throat to him, my senses suddenly heightened, my mind suddenly swirling.  
“Sometimes it was your eyes,” he murmurs against my skin, letting his hands drag over my sides and up, to my ribcage, where they pause. “Sometimes it was your scent. Sometimes it was your sharp tongue that sent me into a frenzy, Jude. I could not keep quiet or stand still. You make me restless.”  
His words make their way to my heart and stay there. His soft confessions I can bear, but not the way his lips explore my collarbones, my neckline.  
I look up, and see flowers growing on the high ceiling, soft pink buds that keep growing. He’s doing this, I realize. Unconsciously – but it is a clear manifestation of his power.  
“I cannot say things I do not mean,” Cardan says, suddenly aware of my gaze travelling along the flowers, as he pulls back slightly. Still, every inch of him is against me, and I am having a hard time processing words, let alone think straight. “So you know I do not lie. I do not deny you.”  
A pause, a shaky breath coming from my lips as I feel his hands move downwards on each side of me.  
“Do you deny me, Jude?”  
Eyes as dark as the endless sky above us meet mine for a few steady seconds.  
“No,” I whisper. “I do not deny you.”  
A soft smile is his answer.  
He kisses me slowly. There are a bunch of butterflies eating at my insides and it only gets worse when I feel his hands run down my waist, my thighs, then my knees.  
There, he plays with the hem of my socks, pulling them down, and up, and down, and up. I am already in shambles.  
It takes me back.  
And I’m still not sure what to do. So I look up at him and let his hands explore beneath my dress.  
I cannot deal with the heat that comes to my cheeks so I fist his blouse in my hand, and I bring his lips down to mine. It is a welcome distraction from all the things he is making me feel, all the things I have been running from for so long.  
And is it, out of your system?  
Yes.  
Probably the greatest lie I have ever told.  
And I recognize it for what it truly is – a lie. Because as he touches me, I struggle to breathe, I struggle to keep my composure.  
He is watching me.  
I breathe through my nose, or try to, as I let my hands run down his chest, to the edge of his trousers.  
But he takes my hand with his free one, and rests it beside my body, simply shaking his head. He does not want me to touch him.  
I should be familiarized with his touch, but it still makes me gasp. My body jolts, hips moving off the comforter, lips parting on their own.  
And Cardan’s eyes are unmoving, unblinking, as he touches me.  
My hands touch his cheeks, needing something firm and real to hold on to.  
He kisses me, so softly, and my thighs close on their own.  
He pries them open.  
I’m shaking, and he turns his face slightly to kiss the palm of my hand. It is a gesture so sweet and tender that it momentarily leaves me in awe.  
But then my eyes are fluttering closed, and I feel myself loosing sense of reality around me.  
“Open your eyes,” he says, a mere whisper, his forehead touching mine. “Open your eyes, Jude.”  
It is all so slow and loving, each and every touch of his, each and every word he speaks, that I force my eyes to open and stare at him.  
“What do you want?” he asks me, his free hand at my cheek, as my own are brought to the back of his head, arms suspended on his shoulders.  
I cannot bring myself to say it.  
I flush brightly, sweat gathering on my forehead.  
“Tell me,” he says, brushing his lips against mine as my thighs begin to tremble. “Tell me, and I will give it to you.”  
“You,” is the only thing I can half-whisper, half-groan. “You.”  
“What is it that you want from me?”  
Instead of saying it, I begin working the ties of his blouse, finding them ridiculously and frustratingly and unnecessarily complicated. At last he pulls away, and nothing in my short eighteen and a half years on this earth has me prepared for the way he smiles.  
He pulls his blouse over his head, and leans down, bringing his lips to mine in a searing, blinding, and painfully sweet kiss.  
Cardan undresses me slowly.  
It is not hurried, like the last time, it is not desperate or urgent. He takes his time, eyes following every movement, and I lay there, watching him right back, face flushed, hands and legs trembling.  
He’s left me in ruins.  
And, by his face, I am doing the same to him.  
It is not easy being so literally bare in front of his prying eyes. Every card on the table, every vulnerability exposed. Every bit of me for him to see. The ugly and the bad. The beautiful and the good.  
Cardan takes me in.  
Seconds pass, and I shiver.  
Petals begin to fall, and one lands on my stomach, right in the centre. Blinking, I make to remove it, when Cardan grabs my wrist.  
We both look at each other.  
He leans in, takes the petal away, and kisses the spot where it had previously touched.  
A ragged breath leaves my mouth as I watch him.  
He is what I can only lamely describe as beautiful.  
He is so beautiful, looking at me like this.  
And, even though we seem at odds here, even though I have yet to do this with him, he does not look at me with any sort of taunting or teasing.  
Another petal falls – right on the centre of my chest.  
My brow begins to furrow when he does the same thing – remove the petal, kiss the spot.  
He’s doing this.  
Another petal, on top of my breast. It falls away, joining the others, and he kisses that spot with reverence. My fingers curve on the comforter, my impatience growing as he keeps at this.  
One of my hands move to his hair, combing through the thick strands, making him look at me.  
His tail curls around my ankle affectionately as I say, “I lied.”  
“About what?” he murmurs, as I help him move out of the rest of his clothing, our eyes never leaving one another.  
“So many things,” I breathe as he comes close.  
“Tell me.”  
I am aching everywhere – and it is all because of him. He’s broken me time and time again, and this time I actually want to shatter. I want to beg him for it.  
I pull him closer, gasping low when we connect. Cardan has one arm around my frame, pulling me to his chest, another keeping my hips still.  
“Tell me,” he grunts out.  
I am momentarily speechless as the feeling washes over me. It is an avalanche, feeling him move against me, though not much at all, as he brushes his lips against mine. I am hot and cold and shivering as my lips swallow a sound that escapes him.  
“I…” I do not finish the words.  
“I know,” he says softly, against my lips. “I know, Jude.”  
No words needed. No words at all as we move with one another, as he kisses me and whispers some truths of his own. I might not say it, but he knows, he feels it.  
A broken sound falls out of my lips and he kisses it away, my hands exploring the plains of his chest, the curve of his shoulder blades. All the while petals fall around us, softly swaying in an invisible breeze. He kisses each cheek, his lips scalding.  
He’s made me feel things I never knew possible. And yet my mind is still afraid. Even if my heart has already been handed over in a silver platter for him to keep as he sees fit.  
I cling to him, as he clings to me, and we fall, drowning together.  
He falls into the comforter, and pulls me into him, kissing me on my face, wherever he can reach. First my chin, then my cheeks, my jaw, my nose, my lips, even both my eyelids.  
I try to steady my heart, but it keeps on banging against my ribcage.  
“I know,” he says again, kissing my forehead. “I know, Jude.”  
I look up, and wonder if what I feel even has words. I try to find them, and come up short. So I kiss him, once, twice, and a thousand times more, hoping he knows. Hoping he understands.  
And hoping he does not destroy me in the process.  
I rest my head on his chest to sleep, and his arms are steady around me. I finally have the courage to spill those truths, but when I look up, Cardan is already sleeping.  
And maybe that is why I still manage to say, as I trace the side of his face, “You are the greatest fear I have ever had.”  
I brush my lips against his, feather-light. Barely a touch. “And my favourite fear above all.”  
I sleep, swaying with the current, not knowing where it will take me.  
But desperately wishing to keep him in my arms, wherever we end up.


End file.
